A Lovely Trick
by therealshawn
Summary: A series of Captain Swan drabbles - some canonical, some AU, most ambiguously in between
1. Chapter 1

_Part one of a series of mostly unrelated drabbles, set in Neverland sometime before THE KISS._

_Obviously, I own nothing related to OUAT._

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She wasn't sure how exactly it had started, this time.

One moment they had been sitting quietly, out of sight but not completely out of the hearing range of the rest of the group. They'd been talking, about nothing really, but then he'd mentioned Neal and Henry. What was probably meant to be a comforting gesture had, within moments, turned into an explosive argument.

She had said something particularly spiteful, he had started to walk away.

Immediately regretting her outburst (for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with the wounded look in his eyes), she groaned and started after him. "No, Killian, wait-"

He stopped and slowly turned to face her. She thought she saw a flicker of emotion cross his face, but then it was gone, replaced by his trademark flirtatious, walls-up smirk. "Killian?"

"Ye-what?"

"You just called me 'Killian'."

Taken aback, she fumbled for a reply. "Well, yeah. That's...that's your name."

"You've never called me that before."

"Of course I have! Why wouldn't-"

"No, love, you haven't." His infuriating smirk widened into a full-on grin. "It's always been 'Hook'. This is the first time you've acknowledged my real name."

Now completely flustered, she just glared at him. "So?"

"I feel like it's a big step for our...relationship."

"Relationship?" She scoffed half-heartedly. "Yeah, right."

"Deny it all you like, Emma. You're finally giving in to my truly irresistible charms."

"Gag me." He canted his head as if he were considering it, and she rolled her eyes. "Anyways, I just wanted to...apologize." She looked up at him, but he remained silent. And expectant. She groaned and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry," she bit out, her head still in her hands, "for freaking out when you were just, I dunno, trying to help. It's not your fault, I'm just…" She raised her head when she felt his hand brush gently against her arm.

"Apology accepted," he said softly.

After a moment that seemed just a little bit too comfortable for a little bit too long, she pulled away slightly. "Well," she huffed, straightening her shoulders. "Good. Glad that's...taken care of."

He scoffed slightly and started to walk away, smiling gently. And before she realized what she was doing, Emma softly called after him, "And thank you, for trying to help...Killian."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry it took me so long to update, I'm a lazy bum with no good excuses. I also have no ownership of any characters or settings involved in this story.

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It was early in the afternoon on a Tuesday when Killian Jones found himself cornered in Granny's diner. Henry slid into the booth, facing him, and ordered a milkshake from a smiling Ruby. "Hello," Killian said hesitantly. He liked the boy, and while it wasn't unheard of for them to spend time together, it was still surprising for Henry to approach him like this without Emma. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the clock. Particularly because Henry was supposed to be in school at the moment.

Henry smiled brightly. "Hi. Let's talk."

"Okay. Ermm, what would you-"

"You and my mom."

Killian gulped, suddenly surprisingly nervous considering that the person confronting him was thirteen years old. But the fact that he was Emma's son made all the difference, he supposed.

Unaware of Hook's agitation, Henry continued. "I'm okay with it. At least for now."

Taken aback, Killian wasn't sure how to respond. Despite Emma's reassurances, he had been worried for weeks about how Henry was responding to their relationship. He had meant to approach the boy, but had never found a time that had seemed right. Of all the reactions he had imagined, though, cheerful acceptance had certainly not been at the top of the list. Particularly considering the thinly veiled threats that the rest of Emma's family had been throwing in his direction. "You...I don't...But, Baelfire - erm, Neal…"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Obviously I'd love it if my parents were gonna live happily ever after together. But...they're not. So I'm okay with you guys being together because you make her happy."

"I...I do?"

"Of course. She smiles any time she thinks about you, especially when she thinks no one is looking. And she hums a lot. She didn't do that before."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well...I'm glad that you are so...accepting."

Henry smiled good-naturedly. "I know I don't have to threaten you, because my grandpa already has, but just remember that this is a small town and you can't hide from us." With that he stood up and walked out of the diner, the bell on the door ringing lightly behind him.

Slumping back against the booth, Hook sat dazedly staring at the spot where Henry had been. A few moments later when Ruby approached to ask if he needed anything, he shook his head lightly and murmured, "She hums a lot."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! They inspire me to no end, so keep 'em coming!

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Killian Jones couldn't be blamed for thinking sentimental thoughts, he decided, if she was going to insist on doing things like sitting on the beach and letting the breeze play with her long, blonde hair. Her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back and she looked more peaceful and relaxed than he had probably ever seen her.

So he certainly couldn't be blamed for quietly approaching and settling into the sand beside her.

She peeked at him out of one eye and smiled gently. "Nice getup."

Confused, he looked around until he nodded towards his outfit. "Ahh, yes" he picked at the lightweight gray shirt and rough trousers ("jeans," Charming had called them), "I was informed by your mother that when one is not technically the captain of a pirating vessel, it is no longer appropriate to wear 'romance-novel-esque butt-hugging leather pants' every day."

She threw her head back, delighted laughter easing the tension in her frame. When she laughed like that, he couldn't be blamed for wanting to make her laugh as often as he possibly could. Right?

They were comfortably silent for several moments, the steady sound of waves in the background.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked lazily.

"Mmmm," she murmured, eyes on the water. "Something Henry said the other day." She was quiet for a minute and he waited. "He was looking at the sky and he said 'blue isn't a big enough color'."

Her smile when she thought about her son prompted him to keep her talking (which he definitely couldn't be blamed for). "Did he find a more apt description?"

"I think he settled on 'cerulean'."

After a few more heartbeats, he started to speak again but she stopped him in his tracks. "You're not too big on silence, are you?" She gave him a pointed look. "For a bad boy you're not very good at brooding."

He scoffed and scowled in his most offended fashion, which only made her chuckle. "I can brood." A pause. "I'm an excellent brooder. I love silence." Another. "Do you see this? I'm brooding. Reserved. Taciturn, even."

"It's cute, how hard you're trying."

"It's not cute," he insisted as he sank deeper into the sand, eyes closed. "It's filled with angst. And masculinity."

"Mmm, yes. You reek of testosterone right now."

He made an affirmative grunt, but didn't answer.

She nudged him. "What's that?"

"Shh, I'm brooding."

She swatted his arm gently, then poked again at one of the chains around his neck.

He peered down at her finger, then closed his eyes again and sighed. "The ring?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"It was Milah's."

"Oh."

He didn't quite know how to respond, but he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable about asking, so he just started to talk. "It wasn't an important ring or anything. It's just cheap metal and a bit of colored glass." He slid the chain off his neck so she could see. "But she saw it in the market one day and fell in love with it and…"

She hugged her knees, "Neal got me a keychain once. Well, he stole it. And it was just a dumb little thing, but I loved it. And even after I got out of prison and he was long gone, I kept it. Mostly because I couldn't stand to let it go." She drifted into silence again, lost in her thoughts.

Killian never claimed to be an expert on love or relationships (he had been described on more than one occasion as "obtuse"), but even he knew that talk of one's former lovers tended to dampen the mood.

So he definitely couldn't be blamed for the way his heart leapt a little bit out of his chest when she spoke again, a smile in her voice.

"I'm turning 30 tomorrow."

He smiled up at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She exhaled - a long, low breath. "For the first 29 years of my life I hated my birthday. I hated how alone I felt, how empty everything seemed. I was usually able to convince myself that my life was great, and in a lot of ways it was, but on my birthday…" She trailed off. Unsure where she was headed but hesitant to interrupt, he stayed still, waiting for her to continue. After a few more moments of silence,though, he opened his eyes and sat up. His concern turned to confusion, though, when he saw the look of complete joy on her face. She turned to face him, her grin widening even more. "Women are supposed to dread their thirtieth birthdays, right? But I don't. I _can't _because I'm just so..._excited. _I have so much ahead of me. I finally have people in my life that I can rely on. I...I've got Henry, I've got my parents, I-"

She cut off abruptly and their eyes met and Hook absolutely could not be blamed for the jolt that ran up his spine.

"And I've got you," she whispered.

The next few seconds somehow managed to simultaneously rush by and drag on. It wasn't an empty or uncomfortable silence, though - it was charged with spoken and unspoken feelings, and the promise of something more.

"Yes," he murmured, just as softly, "you do."

And there was absolutely no way that Killian Jones could be blamed if his heart raced a little faster and his thoughts bordered on the irrational when Emma Swan looked at him like that with her blue (_cerulean_) eyes and her dazzling smile.

No, he thought, he couldn't be blamed at all.

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Thanks again for reading! Please, please, _please _review.

Also, if you're a fan of Agents of SHIELD, go read my gem of a beta's story _Without Expectations _(by caitlin51). She's wonderful.


	4. Chapter 4

I _**LOVE** _all of you who have been following, favoriting, and reviewing! Keep it up!

This particular drabble came to pass because the luscious _caitlin51 _gave me a prompt that made me want nothing more than Christmas. I'm sorry.

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"I'm afraid I still don't understand, love."

Emma Swan huffed in frustration, but didn't look up from the box she was furiously rummaging through. "I told you, we're looking for decorations."

"For Christmas."

"Yes."

"Which is a holiday."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Which isn't for another nine months…"

She did look up at this point, if only to glare at her rather infuriating True Love who was leaning _unhelpfully_ against a rack of mismatched clothes. "Correct. Christmas is usually celebrated in December. But we missed last Christmas, what with all the witches and curses and flying monkeys, so we're celebrating it late." She returned to the box, but after a few seconds she shoved it aside for a new one.

He crouched beside her, noncommittally poking at the garishly colored papers and flimsy cardboard decorations. "And we're _here_ now," he glanced distastefully at the rather greasy store clerk, who had scowled unhelpfully when they had come in asking about Christmas decor, "because…"

"Because Snow's ornaments were all lost in the fire with everything else, and Regina's are sort of...sparse. Plus, I just want some of my own. But," she stood up, brushing her hands on her pants, "apparently not even the thrift store has decent Christmas decorations in March."

He knew she was trying her best to mask her disappointment, so he simply asked, "Well, what are we looking for? How does one decorate for _Christmas_?"

"Oh, I dunno. Red and green. Stars."

"Stars?" He turned around, eyes wandering as if he were trying to remember something.

"Yeah, but...Where are you going? Killian?" She groaned and crossed her arms, waiting impatiently for his return. After a few moments he practically ran up to her, his hand behind his back and a triumphant look on his face that Emma would have called _adorable_ if she wasn't so exasperated. "Well?" she asked expectantly.

Instead of answering, he just held out an incredibly glittery silver star - exactly the sort that would sit on top of a Christmas tree. She looked at it for a long moment, then up at his enthusiastic grin, then back at the star. And she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "It's beautiful."

"Well. I think the glitter might be a bit much, and it's got a bit of a crack right…"

"Killian?" She cut him off with a smile and a kiss. "It's beautiful."

"Hmm, I'm glad you like it." He grinned and leaned down to kiss her again, but stopped and rolled his eyes good-naturedly when Henry marched between them.

"Ah! No kissing, kid in the room!"

Emma laughed and pulled Henry in for a hug. "Hey, kid. Any luck?"

"Yeah, we got a big one! So let's get home to decorate it already." He started shoving them both towards the front door where Regina and Robin were waiting.

As Hook paid for the star ornament and Henry excitedly told them all about his plans for "Operation: Snowball" and his gift for Snow and Charming's baby, Emma was overwhelmed by an incredible sense of _home_.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: _Sorry it took me so long to update! For some reason, writer's block struck right in the middle of this and so I put it off for a while. But I think I'm back now! Please review - reviews are my bread and butter and they inspire me like nothing else._**

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Emma Swan was anything but delicate. If you were to suggest, for any reason, that she needed someone to protect her, she would fix you with a glare so cold that she wouldn't even need to pull out her gun to frighten you. She was strong and capable, a princess by birth and the savior of Storybrook.

But sometimes even Emma Swan got the flu.

She had brushed it off at first, calling it a head cold and popping Vitamin C drops as she rushed out the door to work. But by mid-afternoon she had called home, grudgingly asking Killian if he could pick her up and drive her home. _(He loved her enough that he got over his continued wariness of motorized vehicles to drive her, and he barely even chuckled at how grumpy it made her to have to accept help.)_

She'd collapsed onto the bed as soon as they'd gotten home, and slept for most of the day, only waking up occasionally to try and stumble to the kitchen for water or medicine, at which point Hook would glare and gently guide her back into the bedroom. After the first few failed attempts, she settled for feebly yelling commands at him when she needed something. _(He was more than a little relieved when Henry had gotten home from school. Henry understood things like "Ibuprofen" and "Saltines.")_

He didn't realize how poorly she was feeling, though, until the next morning when she didn't even try to get out of bed to go to work. He gingerly knelt on the floor beside her, hoping that she would at least feel up to talking and that his attempts wouldn't do more harm than good.

"Swan? Emma?" He gently ran his hand through her hair. "Is there anything I can get for you, love?"

She groaned and shifted slightly but didn't open her eyes or answer, so he continued. "Emma, you really need to eat something. Anything, really. Just a bit of...erm...soup! Henry mentioned soup. Do you want soup?" She sort of nodded and half-heartedly tried to push him away. (_He chose to take this as a 'yes' rather than a 'leave me alone'._)

Killian would grudgingly admit, when pressed, that many aspects of this particular realm still stumped him. Televisions confused him, the clothing baffled him, and cars made him nervous. But one thing he had mastered, almost to an art form, was cooking meals in the microwave. So he chopped and stirred and seasoned and cooked. He poured the soup into Emma's favorite bowl, a lopsided blue dish that Henry had made in school, and made a steaming cup of her favorite tea. For good measure, he also grabbed the vase full of daisies off the windowsill. _(Snow White had once told him that flowers went a long way, even with someone as tough as Emma Swan.)_

He pushed the bedroom door open and tiptoed to the bed. She cracked one eye open to glare at him, then scooted over to make more room. He deftly balanced the tray as he climbed onto the bed and settled in beside her.

"Do you think you can eat, Emma?"

After a moment, she nodded and pulled herself up slightly. "Yeah. A little."

He helped her eat and held her hand and rubbed her back when she coughed. When she was done eating and had settled back into her pillow, he pulled the covers over her and started to take the tray back to the kitchen. "Get some rest, Swan."

She smiled weakly. "Look at you. All domestic and comforting."

He winked at her over his shoulder. "Get well soon, love. I'm expecting quite a lot of _gratitude_ once you're better."


End file.
